Hope at Dawn (9 page)

“That’s my new teacher,” Yvonne announced with obvious pride. Her mother sized Livy up, then offered a curt nod. It wasn’t exactly friendly, but Livy preferred that to the woman’s earlier glares.

She greeted Anna, Oliver, Joseph, and the other children she recognized. Most of them smiled shyly at her as their parents quietly studied her. Did she meet with their approval?

“Miss Campbell,” Harlan called out before someone shushed him. The boy ran down the aisle toward her. “I didn’t know you’d be at our church. Good thing they changed everything to English last week.”

So she’d been right about the songs. Livy was aware of the governor’s language law, but she hadn’t seen how it would affect her or anyone she knew.

“It was a nice service,” she said with conviction.

“Can you believe what the pastor said about Miss Lehmann?” Harlan’s face shone with horrified awe. “Going to prison and all?”

Livy cringed. How should she respond? She was saved from having to give Harlan an answer, though, when Greta came and stood beside her brother.

“Happy Easter, Miss Campbell.”

“Nice to see you again, Greta.”

She looked up to see Friedrick moving toward them. He looked every bit as handsome in his Sunday suit as he did in his work clothes. A woman about forty years of age—his stepmother, mostly likely—walked beside him, while a pretty, young lady clutched Friedrick’s arm and stared coyly up at him. An unexplainable slice of jealousy cut through Livy as she recognized the girl as the one Friedrick had danced with the night of her birthday. Was he her beau?

Livy watched him, trying to read at a distance how he felt about the girl at his side. Before she could reach any conclusions, Friedrick lifted his head and looked directly down the aisle at her. Something sparked in his blue eyes, but Livy wasn’t sure if it was friendliness or amusement. Despite their truce, would he tease her for coming to the German church today? Or call her a hypocrite? She wasn’t sure she wanted to stay and find out.

“Why don’t I walk out with you?” she announced to Greta, taking the girl by the hand.

Livy led her from the chapel and out the main doors. The wind had settled down, leaving a nice breeze and plenty of sunshine. A crowd had gathered around the pastor at the bottom of the stairs. Livy held Greta’s hand tightly as she struggled to maneuver a path through all the people.

Several women, standing in a tight bunch, blocked her way as she and Greta came down the steps. Livy paid them little heed as she started to squeeze past, but one of the ladies began talking in a loud whisper that caught Livy’s attention.

“Did you see the new teacher in the back?” the woman said, her accent thick. “I do not understand why she chose to come here. She is not even German.”

One of her companions leaned toward the others. “I hear she is after Friedrick Wagner.” Her friends gasped at this remark. “With nearly all the young men off to fight, I suppose, the American girls want to take ours.”

The color drained from Livy’s face. Had anyone else overheard their nasty gossip? Someone jostled her shoulder from behind and she looked up to see Friedrick standing above her. He frowned, his gaze jumping from hers to the group of women and back.

“Miss Campbell,” Greta said, her voice loud with frustration. “Someone stepped on my shoe.”

At hearing Livy’s name, the women fell silent. All three turned to gape at her in shock, their faces red.

“Come on, Greta.” Livy gently tugged the girl forward and guided her past the speechless group. “Good day, ladies,” she managed to say in a cool but polite tone. “Happy Easter.”

That set them to whispering again, but Livy hurried across the lawn, chin up, to escape from hearing. Had Friedrick overheard them? He’d been too close not to. Did he believe them? She wasn’t here to marry him or any other young man right now. For once, she wished she’d stayed in bed on Sunday. The morning had been nothing but disastrous.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Friedrick moving swiftly toward her and Greta. She couldn’t face him, not with those gossipmongers’ words still ringing in her ears.

“I’d best be off,” she told Greta, forcing a smile.

“Do you have a wagon?”

Livy shook her head. “No, but I have two feet. I’ll see you and Harlan tomorrow.”

Greta nodded and raced to join some girls near one of the trees. Livy walked with quick steps toward the sidewalk. Someone called her name, but she didn’t slow down. The sooner she reached her cabin, the sooner the morning would be over.

Friedrick followed after Livy. He wasn’t worried about catching up to her—her strides were no match for his long ones. Though she could move fast when she wanted. He didn’t blame her for practically running from the church. Not after the unkind remarks of those older women.

He hadn’t expected to see her today, in their German church of all places. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t happy to look up and find her there, watching him. She had on the same blue dress she’d worn when they danced. He liked the way the color heightened the blue in her eyes and the fit accentuated her slim curves.

She might be pretty, but she wasn’t made of fluff. Her reaction to the women’s wagging tongues had been nothing short of regal. Friedrick had swallowed a chuckle after she’d confidently bid the gossipers a “Happy Easter.”

Though she appeared to be fine, he needed to assure himself this was true. He knew what it cost to remain calm in the face of discriminating remarks, and he hated to think those women might have hurt Livy. She’d done nothing to merit their malicious gossip.

“Miss Campbell?” he called out.

She didn’t slow down, though Friedrick could see by the way she flinched that she’d heard him. He moved faster and managed to catch up to her before she crossed the next street. Reaching out, he snagged her arm to stop her. She whirled to face him, her gaze spitting sparks.

“Let me go.” She tugged against his hand. “It isn’t true what they said back there…”

Friedrick kept a gentle grip on her arm. “I know.”

“Y-You do?” She stopped resisting him and stood still. The faint scent of vanilla wafted off her skin and hair. She licked her lips, probably nervous about what he meant to say next. But nothing came to mind, except how inviting that mouth of hers looked. This woman sure did crazy things to him—inspiring anger in him one moment for her narrow-minded opinions and making him want to kiss her in the next.

With great effort, he reminded himself that kissing Livy in the middle of Hilden would not go over well—for her or for him. He lowered his hand from her arm and took a deliberate step to the side. To his delight, something akin to disappointment flashed in her eyes.

“It might help to know,” he said, “that one of those women you overheard is Mrs. Schmitt. She’s Maria’s mother.”

Livy shook her head in confusion. “Who’s Maria?”

“She and I typically go to a dance hall on the weekends.”

A look of understanding crossed her face. “She was walking beside you in the church just now.”

He nodded.

“Does that mean…” Livy crossed her arms. “Are you her beau then?”

“No. But Maria and her mother still hold out hope our mutual enjoyment of dancing will turn into something much more permanent.”

“Ah.” A hint of a smile played about her lips. “So I’m competition.”

“Afraid so.”

Friedrick managed to say it in a teasing tone. No need for Livy to know the truth of her statement. The more time he spent around her, the more he knew he couldn’t see himself bringing Maria to the farm as his wife. While she had many qualities to recommend her to a young man, there were some things she didn’t possess. Things he was only now beginning to realize were important to him.

“Thank you—for explaining.” She took a step backward. “I’d better go.”

Friedrick didn’t want the conversation to end yet. “Would you like a ride home?”

“I’m fine to walk. It’s a lovely day.”

“Then I’ll join you.”

“Really?” Was she happy or disappointed? Friedrick couldn’t tell. She cut a glance in the direction of the church. “I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“It’s just walking.” When she still didn’t look convinced, Friedrick started past her.

“What are you doing?”

“Walking. This is the direction I live.” He stopped and turned around, feigning sudden surprise. “Come to think of it, that’s the direction you live, too. I guess it makes sense for us both to head this way.”

She tried to keep a straight face, but at last, she laughed. Friedrick loved the sound of it. Her laugher was full and joyful and made him want to make her laugh again and again. “You win.”

“Good. I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” she asked with a chuckle. “I thought we were walking home.”

“We are. I just need to tell Elsa to drive the wagon.”

Friedrick strode back to the churchyard to find his family. Harlan darted past, and Friedrick stopped him. “I’m going to walk Miss Campbell home. Will you tell Mother to drive the wagon?”

“Can I come?” Harlan asked.

Friedrick wanted to refuse. He was looking forward to some time alone with Livy, now that they were on civil terms with each other again. But having Harlan with them might keep anyone from cooking up more gossip. “All right. Go tell Mother what we’re doing. She and Greta can pick us up at the school.”

He waited as Harlan bolted toward Elsa, who was talking near the church steps. A few moments later, the boy ran back.

“She said okay.”

Harlan took off down the street. By the time Friedrick reached Livy, Harlan was already bending her ear about his collection of arrowheads. He and Livy would be lucky to get a word in until the boy finished.

Resigned to wait, Friedrick walked beside them, Harlan between him and Livy. She glanced at him, over Harlan’s head, and smiled. It was a real smile, like the one he’d seen when they were dancing. One that almost made him wish he’d left Harlan behind.

Once they’d moved past the town buildings, Harlan abruptly stopped talking and sprinted ahead. “I’m gonna find me a good rock,” he called over his shoulder.

Friedrick chuckled. “He can talk a streak when he wants to.”

“Reminds me of my two youngest brothers, George and Charlie. George is a year older than Harlan.” Her wistful tone betrayed her homesickness. Friedrick couldn’t imagine being away from his family and living all alone. As nice as it might sound at times, his place was caring for them.

“You miss your family?”

She shot him a sheepish glance. “More so than I thought. Even more than when I was at college.”

“What about that beau of yours?” Friedrick regretted the question when Livy stiffened and stared at the ground.

“I’d rather not talk about him.”

He searched for something else to say to bring back the camaraderie between them. “How does it feel to be a real teacher now, Miss Campbell? With your own school and students?”

She threw him an appreciative look—she was grateful he hadn’t pressed the subject of her beau. “It’s wonderful. However…” Her lips lifted in a rueful smile. “I don’t think anyone over fourteen should call me Miss Campbell. It makes me feel quite old.”

Friedrick laughed. “You’d rather I call you Livy?”

“Yes.” The nickname fit her perfectly, more so than Olivia.

“Then please, call me Friedrick.”

“Friedrick,” she repeated softly. He liked the American way she said it. “What do you usually do on Easter?”

“We’ll have roast lamb and a honey cake with custard.” He murmured his approval, which made her laugh. “Instead of eating it in the kitchen, though, we’ll eat in my father’s room. So he can be a part of it.”

Livy kicked at a pebble with the toe of her high-heeled shoe. “What sort of illness does he have?”

“The doctor doesn’t know.” Friedrick gazed at the bare fields beside them. “He’s steadily grown weaker over the last few years and he gets sick easily. Winter is the worst time for him.”

“I’m sorry.” She lifted her hand as if she might touch his arm, but instead she swept some hair from her eyes.

“We make do.”

“What happened to your mother?”

“She died when I was six.”

“That must have been very hard.” Her tone conveyed her genuine compassion.

Friedrick bent and picked up a rock. “I remember a little about her. She had long hair, more white than blond. And she liked to laugh.” He rubbed the rock between his fingers. “Elsa married my father three years later, so she is as much a mother to me as my real one. She’s the one who raised me.”

They walked on in silence for a few minutes, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Livy broke the quiet first. “I know a little of what it’s like to lose someone you care about at a young age. Not a family member, but a dear friend.”

Friedrick checked to see that Harlan was still in sight as he waited for Livy to continue.

“My best friend, Blanche, contracted scarlet fever when we were ten. The doctor was confident she would pull through.” Livy folded her arms as if cold, though the sun still shone. “She died a week later. Because they were worried about the fever spreading, I didn’t get to say good-bye.”

An urge to pull her into his arms and soothe her sadness nearly overwhelmed him. But would she let him? Friedrick wasn’t sure. Instead he gripped the rock tightly in his palm. “I’m sorry to hear that, Livy.”

She lifted her slender shoulders in a shrug. “I think that’s why I miss my older brothers so much. They’ve always been around. After Blanche died, they were my playmates and confidantes.” She coughed and gave him a crooked smile. “Enough about that. Tell me more about your family. Did you resent Harlan and Greta coming along, after so many years alone with your father and Elsa?”

“Harlan maybe,” Friedrick said with a laugh. He welcomed the change in conversation, if only for Livy’s sake. He didn’t like the helpless feeling in the pit of his stomach at seeing her sad and withdrawn. “Never Greta, though. She could charm anyone with those big, blue eyes and sweet temper.”

The despondency that had etched Livy’s features a moment ago faded as she nodded in agreement. “She is sweet, although I believe Harlan has his charms, too.”